Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 1- Sleep? Who needs Sleep

Author's note: Roger's POV…More like his inner monologue at points. I hope its not confusing. I just wrote out his thought process like mine sometimes go.

Warning: Very Explicit language. If you are offended by cursing you might want to stop now.

My version of Roger's brain is not rated PG. There is a little humor in there a little bit.. too much thespian training-humor and drama working together…Well, On with the show

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

Roger's Bed- Middle of the Night

I am so confused.

One minute I am head over heels in love with Mimi, the next I'm pinning for Mark's attention. Because maybe he won't hurt himself. Maybe Mark won't feel the feel the slash of the box cutter across his arm that I once craved for.

Then he wouldn't become me. I hate myself. I really do. I stopped punishing myself along ago for April's death, but mentally, I still do it. I shouldn't, but how I do I just ignore what I did, what I caused? … I don't want Mark to end up like her. I don't want him to die before I do! I couldn't survive another suicide of a loved one.

One mistake, one cut too deep and my filmmaker is gone.

Crap.

My filmmaker? No! My S&M dancer

NO- Now, that sounds dirty and wrong.

My Mimi has a nice ring to it…but so does my Marky.

Shut UP!

I hate it when I argue with myself. That's when you know you can't win an argument. Brain vs. Heart. Sanity vs. drowning in an abyss

And how are you supposed to win an argument you don't even believe in anymore.

Mimi is here in my arms and all I can do is think about Mark. His pale skin. His scrawny build. His blue eyes. Damn it. Fuck. Shit. I shouldn't be thinking about Mark.

Sleep- Sleep is what I need. A peaceful sleep of Girls!. Oh, well of Mimi. But a Female none the less. Yes, this is what I need- a nice wet dream about Mimi. Sex with Mimi. Wow! We haven't done that since I started believing her…

Shit- He's gonna do it again. His door just opened and shut and now I hear his feet going across the floor.

Creak. Creak. Creeeaaaaaaaak.

I hate old buildings. It would be easier not knowing. I wouldn't know if I couldn't hear him go. He wears those damn sexy sweaters all the fucking time. I really need to stop thinking about him like this. He's my Best Friend.

I slowly unwrap myself from Mimi's tight embrace. Every night it seems to be getting tighter- like she's trying to keep me here. Like she thinks she's going to lose me…what if she is losing me…

I can't think about this now

I have to go to him. He needs me…

Wow, I love these lies I tell myself. How can he need me if he never knows I'm there?

I carefully get out of the bed and scoot myself across the floor of the loft so Mark can't here me. See, I can be silent. Why can't he be silent? Why can't he be fucking silent?

Why do I torture myself like this? Shiiiit.

Whenever I hear him do this I get my ass out of bed, scoot across a floor with as much stealth as I can manage to sit outside a bathroom door for a half an hour. Praying to a god that I don't even believe in anymore, but I know that Mark does. He through out all of the horrible crap that we deal with all the time can still manage to keep his faith. I really respect him for that…Then I scoot my now depressed ass back to my bed. And it's getting to be almost every night.

I can't do this anymore. I just can't let him sit back and let him hurt himself anymore. I knock on the door…God, I wish I had a plan…

Well it is a bathroom…

"Hey Mark, I really gotta go man! Like real bad!"

No response.

"Mark, come on open up!"

"Go down to Mimi's apartment, I'm busy!"

"Fuck, Mark, Just let me in!"

I turn the handle. It's unlocked. He left it fucking unlocked! I could have walked in any night at any time and stopped him…I always locked the door when I cut myself or shot up. I always locked the damn door…Maybe he's not like me…Maybe he wants me to know…

In front of me is a bleeding Mark. No tears. No emotion. Just Blood.

"Roger," Mark speaks softly in a strained voice, "You weren't supposed to find out…"

I walk towards Mark. My Marky. I wet an old wash cloth that's just sitting in the sink and gently place it on the open wound on his left arm as I sit down in front of him on the cold bathroom floor. He winces-but I can't tell if it is from my touch or from the stinging of the wet cloth touching his harm.

I need to say something…Anything…Plan…Plan…

"I've known for awhile but I don't know is…Why? Why Mark Why…You saw what it did to me…April…"

Great. I'm crying. I'm Crying. Rockers don't cry. I don't cry. Other people cry. I yell. I punch walls. I even have been known to throw a thing or two at a wall…but cry! Hell No!

Mark just sits blankly in front of me. He doesn't respond. Do I really expect him to? Would I have said anything if he had caught me? I wish I could just hold him…or be able to do something…

Shit. No, Mimi. MIMI…But what about my Marky...

No. Shut up… I can't think straight right now… obviously I'm thinking about Mark…wait did I just pun in my own head…I need help…No Mark needs help. Mark is sitting on the floor bloody! Hurting himself. Man! I should've had a plan…

I should change my tactic, silence is not going to help him.

"How long?" I question.

I can tell it has been awhile because of the scars going all the way up his left arm. I can only assume his right looks like that too.

Silence- I hate silence. Need something to fill the void, hate it. Hate It. Hate IT!

"What the fuck, Roger?" Mark suddenly spoke

Shit- Angry Mark.

Mark only cusses when he's really upset.

"Why are you here, Roger? How do you know? And most of all, what gives you the right to barge in on me in bathroom?"

I wish he would speak a little more quietly…Mimi…Mimi is asleep in my room… don't want to wake her up…Please, lets not wake her up…

I try to plead at him with my eyes to stay calm- and most of all hushed.

"I knew you were in here. I knew what you were doing…Couldn't take it anymore…so I barged in…What the fuck was I supposed to do? Let you kill yourself? In the same bathroom that April killed herself?" I whispered quiet harshly.

Temper Roger, Temper.

I try to soften my facial features back to a concerned face instead of the one of the anger that is building up. I should've had a plan…I should've at least thought a little more about this and a little less about kissing him…Shut Up brain…

I should have talked to Collins.

Mark stands up in front of me. His hand tightly gripping the cloth to his arm. Pressure always seemed to help the stinging that followed the blood…I don't know why…You can still feel it…

"You didn't answer all of my questions, Roger!"

I can hear how pissed off he is. I stand back up. He tries to push past me. I grab him by the shoulders.

Ok, so he can't move now. I have a good thirty pounds on him at least and I have always been stronger… Now what do I do with him… Shove him up against the wall and kiss him? Well, I could…but that is the last thing that needs to happen tonight. I am here as a concerned friend. A best friend. A roommate nothing more… Right? Right?

Mark looks scared. Oh yeah, maybe its because I have him in a Kung Fu grip.

"Mark…" I try to start and say something, but what do I say…the truth? Please, Please don't do this Mark because I love and cannot picture my live without you?

So that obviously wouldn't work. Plan! I should have had a plan…

Because you're mangling you beautiful Ivory skin? No. No. That is a defiantly a no.

"You are my best friend, and I don't want to see you in pain." I think that one might have worked. All truthful yet not bearing my soul…nice, even with out a plan…

But he's just glaring at me. Argh. Argh. Arrggghhhh!

I release the grip on him. Staring into his Icy cold eyes as he stares into my tear stained red ones.

Stalemate. Shit. Neither of us in going to win this tonight, well this morning… What time is it?

I turn my head away first-showing a sign of surrender. I can't do this. I should've had a plan. I shouldn't have acted on my impulses.

Now we're fucked. And not in a good way.

I let Mark past me. I hear his door shut. And I cry. Streaming tears. Man, I'm turning into a fruit. A fruit that is in love with his best friend. A best friend that is in obvious pain, but doesn't seem to want help. Or at least my help. Maybe he can see right through me…

I splash cold water on my face trying to get myself back together. I turn and leave the bathroom just as Mark had done a little while before and head back into my room.

Maybe I can go to sleep. I have the early shift at the bar tomorrow. Dinner shift. I hate the dinner shift. I need to pull myself together so that I can sleep. Who am I kidding? I cold never sleep tonight. I'll just go back to lying with Mimi in my arms and Mark in my heart.

I get to my room.

Fuck. Mimi's awake. She's sitting straight up in my bed. Her face looks as tear stained as mine was a minute ago, but the expression on her face I can read so well. She's pissed.

AN: Please review with your thoughts. I need some ideas of how to continue this. Do you guys want to see a Mark POV, or should I continue with Roger? I personally, Love Roger which is why I chose to write as him first.